


Christmas at Baker Street

by JCF



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Advent Ficlet Challenge 2018, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Don’t copy to another site, Holidays, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Parentlock, Some angst, some hurt and comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-12 14:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16874427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCF/pseuds/JCF
Summary: A collection of Christmas 221Bs.





	1. Holiday Decor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock, John, and Rosie have some shopping to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #1: Holiday Decor.
> 
> Work is unbeta'ed. All mistakes are my own.

John glanced up.

The beams and rafters of Covent Gardens were decorated in faux evergreen garland dotted with small, white lights. Giant red and white ornaments hung from the ceiling.

Around him, Londoners were in the throes of Christmas shopping.

Which is what they were supposed to be doing.

“Again! Again!”

John looked at Rosie. She had one hand clasped in his and the other in Sherlock’s. Her feet had just touched the ground after being swung.

Apparently five swings wasn’t enough. He shared a smile with Sherlock and counted. At three, they swung her again. Rosie was more interested in playing than shopping.

John didn’t mind. The longer it took to shop, the more time he had to figure out gifts. Two weeks left and he still didn’t know what to get everyone.

The only one he didn’t have to buy for was Sherlock. He’d already bought his gift. It just had to be put under the tree.

“Rosie.” Sherlock’s voice made John realize they’d stopped.

“Why don’t we go find a present for Daddy?” Sherlock suggested.

“Okay!” Rosie answered.

Sherlock looked up at John. “Meet you back here in an hour?”

“Alright.” But John knew better.

Sherlock and Rosie shopping together? It would be more like two hours. There was no telling what those two would be distracted by.


	2. Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Rosie have come home with a tree. It's not what Sherlock was expecting, but he loves it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advent prompt #2: Star
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

Sherlock pulled a well worn box out of the closet in the upstairs bedroom. He didn’t know how many times it had been opened and taped shut again. It would probably need to be replaced this year. And he’d have to make sure there was room for the—

“Sherlock!”

John’s voice came from downstairs.

Sherlock tucked the box under his arm and trotted down the stairs.

John was in the living room, hanging up Rosie’s coat. A white box and a full shopping bag were sitting on the couch. Rosie was sitting impatiently in John’s chair.

Sherlock looked at the box on the couch. There was a lot of pink in the photo.

“Is that the tree?” Sherlock asked.

John pointed to his daughter. “She picked it.”

 _Of course she did…_ He chuckled. This tree was going to be the brightest thing in this flat. Thank goodness it was small…

It was quickly set up on the desk; ornaments of purple and white soon hung from the branches.

But something was missing.

The star.

John handed it to Rosie, and picked her up. Together, they put the star on the top of the tree.

Sherlock watched them, taking it in. The tree might have been bright pink, but he couldn’t care less.

He loved it.

He loved them.

It was beautiful.


	3. You Better Watch Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John return home from a dangerous case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advent prompt #3: You better watch out.
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

John grimaced as Sherlock helped him sit down on the couch. When Sherlock had warned him of how dangerous this particular case was going to be, the man had been right. But, the bruised ribs and dislocated knee had been John’s own fault.

He hadn’t been paying attention.

He’d been so focused on getting Sherlock back on his feet he’d failed to notice the burly man with the goatee and the beanpole with the crowbar.

Until Sherlock yelled, “Watch out!”

The well placed foot to John’s knee and subsequent patella shift grounded him, and the beanpole was stronger than he looked. Especially armed with the crowbar.

But now they were home and would stay there for the next couple of days.

Sherlock went to the freezer and returned with the only two bags of frozen vegetables they had. The peas went to John’s knee and the carrots went to his ribs.

John laughed at the makeshift icepacks. “We’re going to be eating peas and carrots for a week.”

Sherlock smiled. “I’ll get more before Christmas.” His smile faded and was replaced with concern. “Are you okay?”

John nodded. “I’ve had worse.”

He reached up and touched Sherlock’s cheek; colours of red and purple were building beneath the skin.

Sherlock took John’s hand into his. “I’m fine, John. It’s just a bruise.”


	4. Snowman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock comes home to the smell of shortbread. Are cookies supposed look like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advent Ficlet Challenge Prompt 4: Snowman.
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own.

Sherlock smelled shortbread the moment he opened the door. He sniffed the air trying to figure out what direction it was coming from.

He hung his coat up and then roamed the foyer trying to pinpoint the location of the shortbread.

It wasn’t Mrs. Hudson.

The door to 221C was closed as it had always been.

Upstairs.

Sherlock followed his nose to the kitchen.

John stood at the table in that atrocious Christmas apron Sherlock had bought him last Christmas. It was covered in splotches of flour and sugar. More splotches were on his face, including one on the tip of his nose… And was that… frosting in his hair?

“Ah, perfect timing,” he said. “They’re almost done.”

The timer rang, and John retrieved a tray of cookies from the oven and set them on the table.

Sherlock’s looked at them in confusion. Were they supposed to be shaped like awkwardly fat ants?

He reached for one in the corner.

John smacked Sherlock’s hand lightly. “Get out, you! They’re not done.”

“What are they supposed to be?” Sherlock asked.

“You’ll see,” John answered.

When he spread royal icing over one of them, Sherlock understood. “Snowmen.”

“Yes.”

Chocolate chips for eyes and buttons finished it off, and John handed it to Sherlock.

Sherlock took it with a grin and took a bite.


	5. Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock, John, and Rosie track Santa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2018 Advent Ficlet Challenge Prompt: Believe.
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own.

John was at the kitchen sink, elbow deep in soapy water. Rosie was on Sherlock’s lap in Sherlock’s chair, watching Google’s Santa Tracker. Sherlock had connected his laptop to the television after dinner, and they hadn’t moved since.

“He’s getting closer,” Sherlock said. “He’s in Turkmenistan.”

John stepped back from the sink. “I don’t think she knows where Turkmenistan is, Sherlock.”

“Yes I do! It’s where Santa is!” Rosie declared.

“See?” Sherlock retorted. “She knows exactly where it is.”

John shook his head with a smile and returned to the dishes, finishing a few minutes later. He left them to dry and entered the living room.

On the TV; Santa – or the icon representing him – was, indeed, over Turkmenistan, moving south into Iraq. Whoever was behind this tracker sure was doing a good job of keeping the children entertained. Both of them.

Sherlock patted the arm of the chair and John accepted the invitation.

He soon found himself just as mesmerised as the others. Sherlock was mesmerised by Rosie’s belief, and Rosie was mesmerised by the fact she could track Santa in real time.

John was mesmerised by the both of them.

Sherlock, a man of reason and logic, was more than willing to let Rosie believe Santa was real and flying over the Middle-East.

And, boy, did she ever believe.


	6. Fireplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John return home after an afternoon in the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fireplace
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own.

Sherlock lit a fire and sat in his chair. A shiver ran through his body and he wrapped his dressing gown around himself. His feet were still damp from the soaked socks that lay on the floor in front of the fireplace. The rest of his clothes hung on the shower curtain rail, while John’s were scattered around the flat. Jacket on the back of a chair, trousers on the back of the bedroom door, shirt on the door knob...

And it was all John’s fault.

“Hurry up with the hot chocolate!” Sherlock called.

“Oh, keep your pants on!” John called back. “And you didn’t have to engage in combat.”

“You started it!”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to retaliate.”  John entered the living room with two steaming mugs. He set them on the table next to Sherlock’s chair.

“Well, you didn’t have to shove snow down my back.”

“And you didn’t have to shove snow down my pants.”

Sherlock smirked. “Yes I did.”

“Oh, no you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I think I did.”

John leaned in. “Careful, or I’ll make you warm me up.”

Sherlock tilted his head to the side. “Is that a threat?”

“Maybe.” John set his knee on the chair between Sherlock’s legs, and gave him a long, slow, wet kiss while the fire burned warm and bright.


	7. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has been invited to Harry's for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2018 Advent Challenge prompt: Memories
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own.

John stopped in front of the third terraced house from the end.

It was decorated simply with a string of coloured lights in the front window and a wreath on the door. It was the most decoration he’d seen on it in years. Maybe things really were better.

They had to be.

According to her message, Harry was in rehab and things were going well. John hoped it stayed that way.

Long fingers sliding between his snapped his attention to Sherlock, who stood beside him with Rosie.

“Are you okay?”

John flushed, realising, in his reverie, he’d forgotten they were with him.

“Yes,” he answered.

Sherlock squeezed John’s hand. “It’s just dinner.”

John nodded, grateful for Sherlock’s support. “Just dinner.”

And together, they made their way to the door; Harry had it open before John could ring the doorbell.

“John! Come in!”

John heeded the invitation and stepped inside.

Harry cooed over Rosie as coats were shed and hung up.

Then she turned to the detective. “Finally, I get to meet the infamous Sherlock.” She hugged him.

Sherlock returned the sentiment, and then Harry ushered everyone into the sitting room.

John looked around. It was cleaner than he remembered. Then, he caught the cabinet where Harry had once kept her liquor.

He smiled, relieved and proud.

Not one trace of booze.


	8. Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock needs a new bow and rosin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2018 Advent Challenge prompt: Music
> 
> Work in unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own.

Sherlock opened his violin case and frowned.

Why hadn’t he noticed this before? Had he been too preoccupied with cases? Rosie didn’t care how much rosin he had or how much hair was on the bow when he played.

But how could he let them get this bad?

Most of the horsehair on the bow was in tatters, and there wasn’t enough rosin left.

This was unacceptable.

Rosie loved music, and Sherlock loved playing for her. She was his most receptive audience. A lively tune had her dancing. _Fur Elise_ had her swaying and humming. _Moonlight Sonata_ lulled her to sleep.

He couldn’t play with a tattered bow.

“John!” he called. “I need to step out for a bit. I need a new bow!”

“Wait!” John’s voice came from upstairs. He rushed downstairs, two unwrapped boxes in his hands; one small and square, the other long.

“I was going to wait until Christmas, but…” He handed them to Sherlock.

Sherlock was confused, but accepted them.

He opened the long box first. Inside, was a finely crafted bow.

“I noticed the bow was—”

“Thank you, John.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sherlock opened the smaller box; he knew what was inside.

Rosin.

He took the items and sat down on the couch.

John sat beside him and he smiled as he rosined his new bow.


	9. Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John awakens to find a note on Sherlock's pillow telling him to meet him and Rosie. And to not forget his skates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2018 Advent Ficlet Challenge. Prompt: Gift
> 
> Work is not beta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own.

John awoke tangled in the duvet. He reached out, expecting to feel Sherlock’s skin. Instead, he felt what he thought was a folded piece of paper.

Confused, he opened his eyes.

Sherlock’s side of the bed was empty and the sheets were cold. No wonder he was tangled in the duvet; Sherlock wasn’t there to steal it. And he hadn’t been for a while.

John propped himself up on his elbow, and picked up the paper. He unfolded it and read the words on it. They were in Sherlock’s hand, but written in red crayon.

_      John, _

_      We went out to buy your gift. Love you! _

_      P.S. Meet us at the Natural History museum when you get this. Rosie’s idea. And don’t forget your skates. _

_      XO. _

John untangled himself from the duvet and got out of bed.

He dressed, dug his skates out of the upstairs closet, and headed to the museum.

It didn’t take him long to find them. The blonde girl in the yellow hat yelling, “Daddy! Daddy!” from atop Sherlock’s shoulders was a dead giveaway.

He approached them and embraced them both.

“So, what did you two get me?”

“Have patience, my dear,” Sherlock said. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Rosie bounced on Sherlock’s shoulders. “Can we go skating now?”

John brushed his finger against her nose. “You bet.”


	10. Do You See What I See?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Rosie observe the skies from the roof of St. Bart's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2018 Advent Ficlet Challenge prompt: Do You See What I See?
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own.

Rosie wanted to stargaze. And who was Sherlock to refuse?

So, here they lay on the roof of St. Bart’s on the clearest night London had seen in weeks. As clear as the skies could get with the light pollution.

But, Rosie didn’t care. She only cared that she could see the constellations.

Sherlock knew that she was up far past her bedtime, and John would likely have a few choice words for him, but he was okay with that.  Spending time with Rosie always made it worth it, watching her gaze in wonder at things most adults took for granted. Like observing such constellations as Ursa Major, Ursa Minor and Cassiopeia.

“Which one’s the North Star again?” she asked.

Sherlock pointed up. “Do you see that bright star at the top right of the Big Bear?”

“Yes.”

Sherlock put his fingers tight together. “Count four fingers; one, two, three, four - to the tail of the Little Bear. That's the North Star.”

“That one's my favourite,” Rosie said.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s Daddy’s favourite.”

“It’s mine, too.”

That star had guided John during the war. It had reminded Sherlock that he and John slept under the same sky while he tramped across Europe taking down the last of Moriarty’s men.

It was a very special star. And it always would be.


	11. Comfort And Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John awakens in the middle of the night to find Sherlock having a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2018 Advent challenge prompt: Comfort And Joy
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are mine.

The hand in John’s twitched.

John stirred.

Another twitch, harder.

Again; faster this time.

Sherlock’s fingers curled, and his nails dug into the palm of John’s hand.

John was awake in an instant.

He turned onto his side, making sure Sherlock’s twitching hand stayed securely in his, and propped himself up on his elbow.

The muscles around Sherlock’s eyes tightened in time with each twitch of his hand. He was grimacing.

His forehead was wet with sweat; locks of his hair stuck to it.

Sherlock was dreaming, and John knew it wasn’t pleasant. It wasn’t pleasant at all.

John brushed Sherlock’s dark curls off of his forehead with his free hand. “Sherlock?”

Sherlock stirred, but didn’t wake. John shuffled closer.

“Sherlock,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”

A sharp intake of breath and a sigh told him Sherlock was now awake.

“Serbia?” John asked.

Sherlock nodded. “I’m sorry.”

John brought Sherlock into his arms. “Don’t be.”

Sherlock moved closer, and John kissed his forehead, his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, and his lips.

When they withdrew, Sherlock lay his head on John’s chest; John ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair.

“I love you, John,” Sherlock spoke softly. John felt the corner of Sherlock’s mouth curve into a smile.

John kissed the top of Sherlock’s head and tucked them both under the blanket.


	12. Gingerbread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Rosie spend the afternoon playing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2018 Advent Challenge prompt: Gingerbread. (Not quite what I originally intended for this one, but I had heaps of fun writing it.)
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own.

Sherlock dashed out of the kitchen and back into the flat via the hallway, Rosie in close pursuit, a small butterfly net in her hands.

Into the living room, over the coffee table, around John’s chair, back into the kitchen.

“I’m going to catch you!” Rosie declared from the other side of the table.

“No you’re not!” Sherlock teased.

“Yes, I am!”

Rosie ducked underneath the table and continued the chase.

Sherlock jumped back and ran into the hall, adjusting the antennae on his head.

Rosie pursued.

Sherlock had made the mistake of wearing his tan dressing gown with a t-shirt and pajama pants in a matching shade of brown. Ever since she’d watched _Shrek_ , wearing any shades of brown all together sparked her inspiration to turn him into the gingerbread man. But today, he was also a new breed of butterfly.

“I will catch you, and I will mount you on my wall!”

Sherlock stopped running and looked at the girl in shock. “You’ll what?”

The net came down over his head. Rosie let go of the handle and it hung there from the antennae.

He turned around when he heard footsteps on the stairs and saw a very bewildered John slowly approaching them. “What’s going on?”

Rosie raised her hands in the air. “I just caught the Gingerbread Butterfly!”


	13. Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comes home and... Why is Sherlock attacking the fridge?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2018 Advent Ficlet Challenge Prompt: Frost
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own.

 

John closed the door behind him and trotted up the stairs, hoping a roaring fire was waiting for him.

It wasn’t.

_Chunk, chunk, chunk!_

John stepped inside the flat and cautiously peered into the kitchen. “Sherlock?”

Sherlock was at the fridge, a knife in his hand, hacking at the inside of the freezer.

“What are you doing?” John asked.

Sherlock wiped his brow. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re trying to stab our freezer to death,” John answered. He walked into the kitchen, sidestepping renegade pieces of ice.

Sherlock turned to address John. “I can’t put all the frozen food away.”

John looked at the freezer and blinked. Was it any wonder with the ice buildup in there? And Sherlock was going about removing it all wrong. “Yes there is, but that’s not how you go about defrosting a freezer. You’ll do more harm than good doing it like that.”

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow, and John realized that the man had probably never defrosted a freezer in his life.

“Get a bowl and fill it with hot water,” John said.

Sherlock did while John unplugged the appliance. Then John looked at the chunks of ice Sherlock had haphazardly freed, and he smiled. He knew exactly how to use them.

“Oh, and I’ll need the blender and the bananas.”


	14. A Beautiful Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock returns home after a day out with Rosie, and hears strange noises coming from Mrs. Hudson's flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A Beautiful Sight.
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own.

Sherlock unlocked the door to Baker Street. Rosie squeezed between him and the door frame and then rushed upstairs, calling for John the entire way up. She’d bought a new ornament for the tree and wanted to show him. Well, _Sherlock_ had bought the ornament, but she had picked it out.

Sherlock smiled, watching her go. He took off his coat and scarf and hung them up, then started to follow Rosie. He had one foot on the stairs when he heard strange noises coming from Mrs. Hudson’s flat.

As he approached the flat to investigate, he could hear her moving back and forth, fussing. There was a run in her stockings, her shoes didn’t seem to fit right, her lipstick didn’t look right, her hair had fallen out of place, and she couldn’t find that darn brooch.

The doorbell rang and Mrs. Hudson cursed. She opened the door a few minutes later, shocked to see him.

She was wearing a blue dress he hadn’t seen before, adorned with an equally new poinsettia brooch. The woman was going on a date. Good for her.

“Best not keep him waiting, Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock gave her a wink.

“Oh, Sherlock. How do I look?”

Sherlock stepped back to take it all in and smiled, cupping her face with his fingertips. “You look beautiful.”


	15. Tin Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock look through a book John has bought for Rosie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 15 Prompt: Tin Soldier
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

Sherlock’s footsteps pulled John’s attention from his book. He looked up in time to be handed a cup of tea.

“Ta,” he smiled. He pulled himself into a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the couch.

Sherlock sat down where John’s feet had been, and raised an eyebrow at the book now in John’s lap. “That’s new.”

John picked up a discarded envelope and stuck it between the pages. “Yeah. I picked it up for Rosie for Christmas, but I think I might need to get one for myself.”

Sherlock set his tea on the coffee table and picked up the book. “ _Thumbelina, The Little Mermaid, and Other Tales_.” He looked over at John. “Andersen.”

John nodded. “My mother used to read them to me.”

Sherlock opened the book to the page John had marked. “ _The Steadfast Tin Soldier_.”

“It’s my favourite story.” John didn’t miss Sherlock’s glance to the leg that once possessed the psychosomatic limp. “It was my favourite before Afghanistan.”

John didn’t miss the light bulb going off in Sherlock’s head either. In a flash, the book was back in John’s lap and Sherlock was exchanging his dressing gown for his Belstaff.

John was almost afraid to ask, “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.”

“No, you’re going somewhere.”

“Just drink your tea; I’ll be back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the book used in this ficlet, "Thumbelina, The Little Mermaid, and Other Tales" was put together by my own brain. It is made up solely for the purpose of this 221B.


	16. Season's Greetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock receives a Christmas card from someone very unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advent Prompt 16: Season's Greetings
> 
> Work is unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

Sherlock only glanced over from his phone at the sound of John dropping mail on the side table. Christmas cards; they could wait. Or, maybe they couldn’t.

A white envelope, far better quality than the rest, poked out from the pile. It was enough askew that Sherlock could see part of the handwriting. It was neat and written with a fine nibbed fountain pen.

Sherlock pulled it out from the pile, turning it around in his hands.

The envelope was crisp and clean, and there was no stamp in the top right hand corner.

The bottom left corner was bent slightly from being put into the inside pocket of an expensive woolen coat judging by the fiber transfer at the seam. It had been personally delivered.

“John?” he asked.

John looked up from the kettle.

“Was my brother’s car outside when you came in?”

John shook his head. “Not that I saw. Why?”

Sherlock turned the envelope around so John could see the writing.

John walked over to get a closer look. And chuckled. “Is Mycroft sending Christmas cards now?”

“Apparently.”

Sherlock opened the envelope and pulled out a generic card with _Season’s Greetings_ written in gold on a red background. He opened the card.

It was blank except for a simple, handwritten message:

  
_To Sherlock,_

_Merry Christmas._

_Love,_

_Your brother._


	17. Warm and Cozy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock, John, and Rosie spend an evening in front of the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work is un-beta'd. All mistakes are my own.

John lifted Rosie out of the bathtub and she shivered.

And then she sneezed into the towel he was using to dry her off.

The girl was fighting a flu that Sherlock had caught a few days earlier. So far, John had been lucky - knock on wood - to avoid getting it himself. But, that meant he’d been playing both loving husband and doting father for a week and a half.

He wasn’t sure who was worse when sick. Sherlock or Rosie. After a moment’s thought, he decided on Sherlock. Rosie was cranky and a bit clingy, but bugs rarely had her down for too long. Sherlock on the other hand… He was lazy, expected to be waited upon, and downright grumpy with a bug.

John exchanged the snot covered towel for a clean one, and continued drying Rosie. Then he put her fluffy yellow duckie bathrobe on her, and followed her into the living room.

Sherlock had started a fire, and was now sitting in a pile of pillows. The chairs had been pushed back, and three cups of hot chocolate sat on the floor in front of the hearth.

John smiled. Someone was in a cuddly mood tonight.

John and Rosie joined him; Rosie curled up between them.

John turned to Sherlock. “Feeling better are we?”

Sherlock smiled. “Much better.”


	18. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock hosts his annual Christmas party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advent Challenge prompt: Celebration.
> 
> Work is un-beta'd. All mistakes are mine.

Sherlock looked around the room as he played a mini Christmas concert for his company. Rosie was in John’s arms and they danced in the kitchen doorway while John sang along to her. Mrs. Hudson sat in John’s chair, tapping her toes while Molly and Lestrade hummed along on the couch.

The gathering was small as usual, but there was no other group of people Sherlock wanted to be with. These were the people who took him for who he was, no questions asked. They weren’t afraid to put him in his place – at times, literally – and had the patience of saints. They were the ones he wanted to celebrate with.

He finished to applause plus a giddy, “Yay!” from Rosie. He bowed gently and then set his violin on its stand.

John set Rosie down and poured Sherlock a glass of wine.

Sherlock accepted, but his enjoyment of it was short lived.

“Presents!” Rosie exclaimed, and ran to the bag of gifts out from under the desk.

“Rosie…” John sighed.

Sherlock waved it off. “Oh, let her. If Rosie says it’s time for presents, it’s time for presents!”

“Presents sound good to me,” Lestrade agreed.

Sherlock set his wine down on the coffee table and then sat cross-legged on the floor as Rosie handed him a bright blue gift bag.


	19. Silent Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John spends Christmas in Afghanistan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advent Challenge prompt: Silent Night.
> 
> Work is un-beta'd. All mistakes are mine.

John could hear Bill Murray humming _Silent Night_ beside him.

The night, a few kilometres outside of Kandahar, was, indeed, silent. No guns had been fired in the last few hours. It was Christmas Day, and their opponent was giving the Fusiliers a much needed respite.

Most of John’s men were using the time to relax or engage in games of cards. One group was playing a round of Five-card stud, another was in the throes of Rummy. Cigarettes were being used in place of chips.

Murray was patching up a private’s hand after he’d fallen on a sharp piece of ice while sparring with a corporal. The wound was minor and wouldn’t require stitches.

John took the time to relax and write in his journal. It was one of the few things that kept him sane during the holidays. It wasn’t his first Christmas in Afghanistan, and that was fine by him. He’d rather those who had spouses and children spend Christmas at home. He was single and had no children. Just parents and a sister who missed him if their emails were any indication.

A bullet ricocheted off a stone.

John dropped his pen in the dirt and ducked down.

An explosion rattled the ground.

John checked his watch. _00:15, 26-12-09._

Christmas Day was over.

Another explosion.

Bombs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the widespread Christmas Truce of 1914 (and subsequent sporadic ceasefires throughout WWI). Whether or not something like this actually happened during the War in Afghanistan 2007-2010, I do not know.


	20. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock returns home after a long case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advent Challenge prompt: Home
> 
> Unbetad. Any and all mistakes are mine.

Sherlock was barely awake when he walked into to Baker Street. The stakeout was supposed to take six hours.

It took twenty-four.

Lestrade had seriously underestimated the skill of the criminals they were after, a fact which hadn’t surprised Sherlock in the least. What had surprised Sherlock was, he himself had underestimated them. To err was human he supposed.

He shut the door behind him and trudged upstairs. The lights were off, as they should’ve been at midnight. The hearth was cold, but the living room was still warm and smelled pleasantly of fire. John had just recently gone to bed.

A line of dim light was visible on the underside of the bedroom door.

Sherlock smiled. John was still awake. And he was the one person Sherlock wanted to see.

He entered the bedroom.

John was sitting up in bed, reading. He closed the book and looked up with concern upon seeing Sherlock.

“My God, you look awful. Is everything alright?” John asked.

Sherlock sat down on the bed. Had the mattress always been this soft?

“Yes,” he answered. “The stakeout took longer than expected.”

“I see that.” John scooted over and wrapped his arms around Sherlock.

Sherlock leaned back into them, grateful for their warmth.

John kissed Sherlock’s head and then withdrew. “Get undressed. I’ll run us a bath.”


	21. Hopes and Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John watches Sherlock sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work is unbetad. All mistakes are mine.

John leaned against the door frame and smiled.

Sherlock was asleep on the couch. He lay on his side, his knees bent just enough to allow his bare feet room on the cushions. His hands were tucked in the crook of his neck. His breath was steady and deep, calm.

It was the only time Sherlock ever truly looked peaceful. He always had a calm exterior, and presented himself in a way that suggested nothing ever got to him. But, the world didn’t know the real Sherlock Holmes, the man who was wild and domestic, menacing and soft, crude and loving.

The man John had to himself for the next week.

They had both agreed that neither of them were going to be working until the new year. No patients, and no cases. Just relaxing at home and trips to the park so Rosie could expend her energy.

John just hoped that clients and criminals alike would find the Christmas spirit and lay low long enough to give them peaceful respite. They needed it.

John crossed the room quietly, and picked up the blanket from the back of the couch. Then he draped it over Sherlock’s lithe, yet strong, frame, and bent down to kiss Sherlock’s head.

“Goodnight, my love,” John whispered and then he tucked Sherlock in under the blanket.


	22. Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock wakes up to John making breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work is unbetad. All mistakes are my own.

The smell of fresh coffee roused Sherlock from sleep. Another sniff had him picking up the scent of bacon and eggs.

Sherlock smiled. John was in a good mood this morning. So good a mood that he’d gotten up early to make breakfast.

Sherlock drew back the covers and got out of bed. He grabbed his dressing gown from the floor where he’d left it after John had had his way with him last night, and left the room.

John was humming _Let It Snow_ over the stove where the bacon sizzled. Sausages shared the bacon pan, eggs and beans cooked in two others.

Sherlock walked up behind John and snaked his arms around him. “Someone’s in a good mood this morning.” He nuzzled John’s neck.

“Yes,” John answered. He turned to face Sherlock. “And it’s all your fault.”

Sherlock smiled. “You should have your way with me all the time.”

“That could be arranged,” John said. He gave Sherlock a kiss. “But first, breakfast. Would you mind putting the tea on?”

“Not at all.” Sherlock unwrapped his arms from around John and did as was asked of him. Soon, breakfast was completely ready. But someone was missing.

“I’ll go up and summon the Kraken,” Sherlock said.

He gave John’s rear a squeeze, and went to get Rosie out of bed.


	23. Nightmare Before Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosie has a nightmare on Christmas Eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work in unbetad. All mistakes are mine.

The sound John hated most came from upstairs.

Rosie was crying.

John and Sherlock both sat up in bed, but John was out of it first.

He quickly made his way upstairs. Rosie was huddled in by her pillow, clutching her teddy bear.

John sat down on the bed and Rosie crawled into his arms.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” John soothed. “Bad dream?”

Rosie nodded. “I woke up on Christmas and you and Sherlock weren’t here. I looked everywhere but I couldn’t find you.”

John pulled her closer and kissed her head. If only she knew he had the same fear. He’d already lost Mary, and Sherlock once… He didn’t know what he would do if he lost Rosie, too.

“It’s okay; it was just a dream,” he said. “Sherlock and I are still here, and we are going to have a great Christmas with presents, and a ham for dinner—”

“Is Sherlock going to play his violin?” Rosie asked.

“Of course he will,” John answered.

Rosie wiped her eyes and nodded. “Okay. I love you, daddy.”

“I love you, too. Now, let’s get you back to bed before Santa comes.”

Rosie did without a fuss, and John tucked her in.

“Tell Sherlock I love him, too.”

John smiled. “I will. Goodnight, love.” He kissed her head, and quietly left her bedroom.


	24. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Mycroft share a moment at their parents'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work in unbetad. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> To everyone who has followed this fic: Merry Christmas, Blessed Yule, Happy Holidays (whatever holiday you are celebrating). Thank you for taking this journey with me.

Sherlock peered over the book he was leafing through. Mycroft was leaning against the mantle, watching their father laying on the floor with Rosie, colouring in a picture.

The curiosity and fascination on Mycroft’s face made Sherlock smile and Sherlock made sure Mycroft saw it.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and left the room.

Sherlock followed.

“I thought you didn’t like humans,” Sherlock teased.

“Oh, shut up,” Mycroft muttered.

Sherlock laughed.

Mycroft leaned against the kitchen counter. “Though, she’s certainly brought out a side of father we haven’t seen in a long time,” he mused.

“Afraid she might do that to you, too?”

“Quite,” Mycroft answered. “Imagine the horror.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sherlock said. “Might work out for the better.”

“Doubtful,” Mycroft replied.

Sherlock sighed sadly. He remembered a time when Rosie and their father was him and Mycroft. When the two of them couldn’t wait to decorate the house and trim the tree. When Mycroft was willing to accept and give affection. He missed it.

“Well, if you change your mind, you are welcome to visit her.” And Sherlock meant it. It was time to put the past behind them and find some peace.

Mycroft craned his neck a bit to watch Rosie, and smiled.

Sherlock extended his hand to Mycroft. “Merry Christmas, Mycroft.”

Mycroft shook it. “Merry Christmas, brother.”


End file.
